


I never thought you'd be the fussing type

by Dawninlatin



Series: Manorian Teacher AU [4]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Manon would most definitely fuss over sick Dorian and no one can tell me otherwise, One Shot, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24134362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawninlatin/pseuds/Dawninlatin
Summary: Part 4 of the Teacher AUDorian gets sick, Manon takes care of him.
Relationships: Manon Blackbeak/Dorian Havilliard
Series: Manorian Teacher AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736908
Comments: 7
Kudos: 67





	I never thought you'd be the fussing type

The last person Dorian expected to find knocking on his door at 9pm, a stormy November evening was Manon. The only time he’d heard from her today had been through a text, asking why he wasn’t at work. Dorian had answered that he was sick, which he really was. 

His head wouldn’t stop pounding, he was burning with fever, even just the slightest movement sent bolts of pain through his body, and every five minutes it sounded as if he was coughing up a lung. Having the flu was an absolute nightmare. Therefore, he’d been forced to stay home and instead spend his day switching between sleeping and watching trashy daytime TV. 

Manon had replied to his text, but not with the usual _are you okay?_ or asking if he needed anything, or just a _hope you feel better soon <3 _No, she had simply written _Ok._ with a period and all. 

Dorian wasn’t surprised, she didn’t seem like the type to play nurse, which was why he couldn’t help but look a little shocked when she showed up at his door, a worried look on her beautiful face. She had changed from her usual work attire to loose pants and a soft cotton shirt, her long, white hair pulled up in a messy bun. She was also carrying two bags, filled with what looked like groceries.

«You look like shit,» she pointed out, stepping into his apartment.

He laughed at her comment, but immediately regretted it when it sent him into a coughing fit so violent he had to grip the doorframe to stay upright. «I feel like shit,» he managed to croak out once the coughing had subdued.

Manon stepped closer and put her palm against his forehead. «Gods, you’re burning up!» She moved her hand to stroke his cheek, and Dorian savored the touch of her cold hand. Her brow furrowed as she tried to assess his condition. «And you’re pale, you should go and lay down.» 

With that, she grabbed the grocery bags and drifted into the kitchen. Dorian didn’t dare disobey, so he dragged his aching body back to the couch. He listened as the woman he could now proudly call his girlfriend - as of two weeks ago - stuffed various foods into his fridge. 

They had been dating for months now, and two weeks ago, when he’d asked her to go to a party with him, he had also asked if he could introduce her as his girlfriend. Manon’s whole body had tensed at the question, and Dorian had begun to worry if he’d just made a huge mistake, if he’d moved too fast and read the signals wrong, if he’d managed to fuck it all up. But as he was about to brush it away and tell her to just forget it, she had looked into his eyes - her molten gold meeting his sapphire blue - traced her thumb along his lower lip and said, «Only if you’ll let me call you my boyfriend.» After that, they had made love. It hadn’t just been sex, Dorian knew there was a difference now.

Said girlfriend interrupted his thoughts by peeking her head through the doorway, asking if he’d eaten anything today. When Dorian said he’d eaten some leftover cake from the fridge, she shook her head, saying that he needed to eat proper food if he wanted to get well. Then she let out an exasperated sigh, before disappearing back into the kitchen.

_Was she fussing?_ The thought made him feel all warm and cozy, despite the flu barreling its way through his body.

A few minutes later, Manon emerged from the kitchen, carrying a bowl of steaming soup that would have smelled delicious if he still had a sense of smell. She sat it down in front of him, before grabbing the thick blanket discarded at the floor. «You should eat, you’ll feel better.» Then she tucked the blanket around his body and sat down next to him.

«I never thought you’d be the fussing type,» he said, his attempt at looking smug interrupted by a violent cough. Manon quickly handed him a glass of water, urging him to drink it. 

«Just eat your soup.»

-

After practically spoon-feeding him the soup, which tasted delicious by the way, Manon motioned for him to put his head in her lap. She begun stroking his hair, and kept stroking it through several episodes of some sitcom playing on the TV. 

The motion almost lulled him to sleep, but Dorian willed himself to stay awake for a little longer, gazing up at the woman who made him feel like the luckiest man in the world. Manon smiled faintly, and Dorian decided at that moment that he never wanted to be with anyone else. 

«Thank you,» he whispered, his voice almost gone due to a very sore throat. «It means a lot to me, that you came here tonight.» He closed his eyes, relishing the touch of her delicate fingers.

«I didn’t want you to be alone like this,» she whispered back. Dorian opened his eyes again, and saw that she was gesturing towards his feverish body. «And,» she begun, taking a deep breath, «I found myself missing you today.»

At hearing her words, knowing that she’d _missed_ him today, a strange, but very good feeling coursed through him. He had missed her too, today. «You should go to bed, sleep it off,» Manon said, her voice quiet, the howling sound of the wind filling the otherwise quiet apartment. 

Dorian hummed in response as her fingers kept stroking his hair.

«Is it okay if I stay here tonight?» his girlfriend asked, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. Dorian pushed her away, before her lips could meet his skin. 

She looked confused, almost betrayed, so he quickly explained himself, «There’s nothing I want more than for you to stay, but I don’t want you to get sick too.»

Manon only snorted, looking at him as if he was an adorable little kitten. «Don’t worry, I won’t get sick.» He raised an eyebrow, a protest ready on his lips, but he was interrupted. «I haven’t been properly sick in years, I’ll be fine.»

It was Dorian’s turn to reach up and kiss her then, so grateful to have found this brilliant woman who kept surprising him over and over again. «Lets go to bed, then.»

-

That night, something between them had changed, Manon thought. The whole situation had felt so _domestic._ The way she’d made him dinner, how they had brushed their teeth together, how they had spent the night wrapped in one another’s arms, Manon lying awake, listening to his breathing, checking if his fever had gotten any worse. 

There had been nothing sexual with the way they slept, their limbs tangled together, yet it was one of the most intimate nights she had ever experienced. 

And as she woke up a few days later, her body burning with fever, her head pounding mercilessly, she couldn’t help but think that it had been worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I should study for my math exam, but I just had to write this!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who comments and reblogs and give kudos etc!!! You have no idea how much it means to me<3
> 
> Peace&Love<3  
> -Dawninlatin


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